


summertime and butterflies (all belong to your creation)

by LittleHandGrenade



Category: Good Morning Call (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm just really soft for these two okay?, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleHandGrenade/pseuds/LittleHandGrenade
Summary: Because some may think they happened by chance, but what's the foundation of destiny if not a succession of taken chances? And their story has always been about conveniently being in the right place at the right time, but most important, about staying together even when the moment is wrong.Aka, snippets on the relationship of two idiots in love.





	summertime and butterflies (all belong to your creation)

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished watching Good Morning Call in three days and after neglecting all my final projects for it I decided I had to write this because who needs to get a college degree, amirite? (As you can tell, I have my priorities in order). This is supossed to be a series of unrelated moments in the relationship of Nao and Uehara, most of them placed after the ending of season two (but I might as well smuggle one or two moments from in between season one or two). 
> 
> I don't have a Beta and English isn't my mother tongue so read this under your own risk. 
> 
> Title from 'Olivia' by One Direction.

Uehara frowns, a small crease forming on his forehead over his nose right in that spot Natsume always points out every time anyone manages to irritate him –which then again, isn’t exactly a complicated task, is it?, saying he’s gonna be all wrinkled by the time he turns 30.

He’s running late, or to what regular people might be just in time but he has never liked to be on the clock since he rather consider himself a meticulous person.  However, as seconds keep passing watching him glare with frustration at the dust that gathers under his couch, it’s pretty much obvious he's lacking his usual efficiency.

Uehara groans as he stands up, clenching his jaw as his eyes scan his apartment in what must be the millionth time in the last hour. And just like those other times, that action accomplishes nothing. Shit, _Saeko is gonna murder him_. She was actually quite explicit yesterday’s evening about the methods she would use to assassinate him if he even entertained for a second the thought of arriving late at the lab the day different professors of various universities of Tokyo are coming to pay a visit and learn more about her work. And Uehara likes her, he really does, but he also finds her terrifying in a normal basis, even more now that she seems to have the added pressure of the scientific community spotlight roaming over her thanks to the publishing of her article. Besides, Saeko is not one to joke when it comes to work and he's afraid she sounded far too serious while she threatened him.

He rubs the back of his neck, his brain working at ten thousand miles per hour while trying to remember where was the last time he saw his blue shirt, a nice button up of a soft silky fabric Yuri gave him on his last birthday arguing that it would be only fitting that he started to dress like the adult he was becoming –she then proceeded to drink, and cried about how fast time had passed and how she still remembered when they were kids and she used to be taller than him (she also tried to kiss Natsume, and that idiot seemed way too nonchalant about the whole thing, that ridiculous self-satisfied smile of his plastered all over his face). But yeah, the button up, _focus Hisashi_.

He wore it two weeks ago for his anniversary with Yoshikawa. They went to the Tokyo Skytree restaurant and Nao spent the whole night smiling, claiming that it was the most beautiful view she had ever seen (he would disagree, but he guesses its fair since Yoshikawa can’t exactly look at herself). But he did laundry last week, which means the shirt should be in his closet with the rest of the batch of clothes he cleaned. And that’s obviously not the case.

And there’s when it hits him. He restrains himself from literally hitting himself in the face for not having thought about it before. Of course if the shirt is not in his apartment, it must be next door at Yoshikawa’s since they usually do their laundry together (because it’s cheaper, not because they’re disgustingly domestic as Natsume likes to claim every time he sees them do some chore together –and Uehara pretends he doesn’t notice the small hint of sadness that Natsume hides behind his smile as he says so). He chuckles to himself as he walks to the door. The shirt must have gotten mixed with Yoshikawa’s clothes, it wouldn’t be the first time although this is definitely not comparable to the incident of Yoshikawa’s underwear in the pocket of his jacket that left them unable to look at each other in the face for a whole day. And since she usually just leaves the clothes lying around for days, sometimes not even bothering in putting them in the closet at all before needing to wash them again, she obviously mustn’t have noticed yet.

“Oi, Yoshika-!” the rest of his sentence dies on his lips as he steps in the small living room-kitchenette of Yoshikawa’s apartment. There’s music blasting at a considerable volume, some bubblegum pop song that has been hitting the radio charts on the last week and he doesn’t seem the appeal of, and Nao is singing along animatedly and dancing in between stirring at the content of a pot on the stove and chopping some vegetables near the sink. He’s about to step in and stop her because they’ve been dating for almost three years now and he knows better that mixing her excited clumsiness with a sharp object, that’s basically like directly calling for disaster to comer over for a visit, but he remains unable to move as he notices what she’s wearing.

Yellow socks that match with the tiny dots of her pink pajama shorts, the same shorts that are barely noticeable under the shirt that hangs loosely on her small frame, covering half of her thighs. _His shirt_.

Uehara remains on his place, dumbfounded, and she keeps working on her food completely oblivious to his presence ( _mental note: talk to Yoshikawa about how absent-minded she is_ ).

He takes in the sight, the stain in the shirt just slightly below the collar that has been definitely caused by the frantic movement of the spoon she’s using to stir whatever she’s cooking but also as an improvised microphone, the way the sleeves are haphazardly rolled up above her elbows, wrinkling the delicate fabric in a way that’s certainly gonna leave a mark on it.  A part of him tells him he should be angry, at how careless she is, at how she never stops herself for a moment to wonder if she should do the things she does but he also knows that the fluttering feeling inside his chest has nothing to do with annoyance. Because that’s what he likes the most about her, she might be pretty and smarter than she gives herself credit for, but most important _she’s all heart_ , always throwing herself into what her heart dictates her, always going for what she _feels_ is the right thing.

And despite the troubles she might cause or get herself into, isn’t it always right in the end? ( _Definitely smarter than she thinks she is_ ).

“Uehara-kun!” she startles, stopping herself in the middle of a turn-around. He blinks, smiling slightly at the pink color that paints her cheeks at finding herself and her impromptu concert discovered “Why are you standing there?”

“You’re wearing my shirt” he answers, rising one eyebrow as he crosses his arms and leans against the wall. Nao’s eyes get wider and she alternates her sight between him and the shirt she’s wearing, as if she hadn’t put a second thought on it before deciding to wear it (which she of course didn’t, wasn’t that what he was thinking about just a second ago?).

“Gomen-ne, Uehara-kun!” Yoshikawa says, bowing slightly.

He purses his lips in an attempt to conceal his grin.

“Well, you already stained it so you might as well keep it since I can’t use it to go out anymore” she looks at him with a mixed expression of worry and guilt.

“It’s the shirt that Yuriri gave you, isn’t it? Gomenasai Uehara-kun, I’m gonna work hard to buy you a new one” she babbles bowing further and he sighs, letting his smile finally take over his features.

“I’m kidding Yoshikawa, but it would be a waste if I kept using it when it definitely looks better on you ” he finally says putting his hand against her cheek to arrange behind her ear a strand of hair that has fallen over her face at her sudden movement. She stares at him with confusion for a couple of seconds before she gets what he means (because he might have gotten better at expressing his feelings out loud in the last years, but sometimes it isn’t that easy. Yet she gets him, _she always does_ ). She smiles then, one of those big smiles of her that seem capable to brighten even the darkest day. And well, Uehara thinks, he wouldn’t mind losing a hundred expensive shirts more as long he gets to keep that smile on her face.

“Arigato” she murmurs, pulling him into a tight embrace that leaves him frozen for a moment before he catches up, his arms closing around her shoulders and pulling her even closer to him. He feels her smiling against his chest and he snorts but he’s smiling as well. And then as sudden as she came close she’s pushing herself away, looking back at him with wide eyes “Uehara-kun! Weren’t you supposed to be at the laboratory with Saeko-san?”

“Shit” he mutters, getting to the door in a couple of long steps.

“Good luck, Uehara-kun!” she calls after him and he nods in her direction before crossing the doorway. He’s about to pull the door closed when he takes one last look back inside.

Yoshikawa is still standing where he left her, her hands holding the hems of the shirt as she softly rocks herself left to right while staring at it with a smile. Uehara smiles too.

_(Suddenly, he doesn't care that much about being late, Saeko and all her threats be damned.)_


End file.
